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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23916838">The sun has been shining for so long without you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasigat/pseuds/Tasigat'>Tasigat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Based on the Felix&amp;Leonie ending, Former friends to lovers, Headcanon Worldbuilding, How to live in a happy world when you are depressed af, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Melancholy, Pining, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Slow Burn, Various Other Named Characters, but serious, will get better but starts pretty miserable</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:20:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23916838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasigat/pseuds/Tasigat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Margrave Sylvian Jose Gautier has been invited to attend the festival commemorating the unification of Fodlan 20 years ago. He doesn’t want to go, but he will, as he must. He isn’t quite prepared for what he finds there and what comes out of it however.</p><p>_</p><p>A 20-ish years post-VW, canon-divergence Slyvix story, based on a serious take on the Felix and Leonie ending, with a good amount of headcanon worldbuilding sprinkled in. Or: Two idios try to reconnect and finally find their place in the world, maybe with each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The sun has been shining for so long without you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you Maya and Stella for beta reading this even though you haven't even played FE3H/ only finished BE. Thank you Nebbles for emotional support before posting.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sylvain makes his way to the festival, and has several breakdowns, as one does celebrating peace and all, you know the usual.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The road to Derdriu was long. Long and uneventful, just how he liked it. Enough time to ponder and think about all the inevitable social encounters he wouldn't be able to stave off. <em> Oh how is your marriage going, everything alright with the kids, let's go over our last trade agreement again </em>. Uhg. For now: just him, the road and his horse, bliss for a few precious days at least. </p><p> </p><p>The wind soared over the open field, grass flowing like river water, carrying the faint words of idle conversation and the soft whickering of horses, the sounds of hooves pleasantly muffled on the dirt trail. After a few long minutes of the wind tousling his hair he reached for his saddlebag, and took out two folded pieces of paper to read them over yet again.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> To esteemed Margrave Sylvain Jose Gautier,  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Your presence is deeply wished for during the three day festival commemorating the official 20 year anniversary of the unification of Fódlan, King Claude's coronation and subsequent establishment of peace with Almyra and the founding of The Great Alliance, starting on the 3rd of the Great Tree Moon in the new year of 1210 after Imperial Calendar. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> There will be feasts and entertainment throughout the festival days, provided by talented artisans from all over the world.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It will also include a ceremonial rejuvenation of the twenty year old bonds and treaties, as a sign of faith and peace, as well as a new initiation into The Great Alliance, Morfis.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Due to your role during the war of unification as well as current spokesperson of the former Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and your deeds after the war since, your oath and signature will be required as well.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Thusly, we again express our urgent wishes for you to attend the festivities and make them the showing of peace they deserve and are meant to be.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Signed,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Standing Representatives of The Great Alliance</em>
</p><p><em>6th of Pegasus Moon, Imperial Year 1209 </em> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Of course he would attend, he even had helped organize a few of the resources needed for the activities. There really hadn't been the need for such a convoluted, stilted, formal request. He wondered if Claude had gotten one of these as well. </p><p> </p><p>He took out the other letter. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>15. PM. 09</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Old friend!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I hope you won't leave us hanging! Ha! But I know you won't.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> I know, I know these balls aren't really your thing anymore (what a shocking thought, 30 years ago) but I think there still will be much for you to enjoy. Hey, I might even have a small surprise for you - </em> Sylvain could practically see the trademark wink while reading <em> - good that you weren't too involved in the planning of this thing, ey.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Speaking of, I wish you safe travels, yada yada, but I am just really glad I get to see you and all the others together again. Kind of the class reunion we should have had all those years ago... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Anyway I won't have to tell you to dress well, as you're always very dashing, but please don't forget to bring some of that really formal stuff for the signing. Ignatz might want us to sit for a painting and that will hang somewhere for ages. Might as well look your best.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You don't have to bring the lance. Actually you shouldn't.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I look forward to the festival and not because it kind of celebrates me (deserved, but still) but because we can all enjoy this together.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> See you there,  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Claude. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Ps: we'll have to compare beards again (no not code, Sylvain) because I think I can triumph my past victories yet again. Or did you shave yours off as a sign of shame and failure in the face of your past losses?? I jest, I jest. I'm really happy to see you again, and safe travels (for real this time). </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Pps: might I convince you to stay a little longer just to catch up with old friends? Most of the class of  '80 have already said they'll remain for a few days. I know these can be hard for you and I won't pressure you but please at least consider it? Maybe you'll wanna stay after my special surprise for you… or that plan will backfire horribly. Either way I've got your back and see you there. </em> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Sylvain had read the letter countless times and decided that he wouldn't stay longer. Maybe if the surprise was as good as Claude promised it would be, but that was another enigma and just <em> so like Claude </em> . However he doubted that even the King could find something that would hold him there. Sylvain just really, really couldn't figure out what he meant by <em> special surprise </em>. He had asked both Marianne and Lorenz in their usual letters but neither of them had had any clue as to what Claude had in store. Then again both had said Claude had seemed unusually giddy, much to Lorenz dismay, like he was hiding something even from them. Asking Hilda was out of the question, as she would just weasel something out of him in return. King and already a figure of Legend, Claude still wasn't one to stop pulling pranks on his friends.</p><p> </p><p>Putting the letters away again and focusing on the path ahead, his pent up sigh mingled with the wind, carrying his worries away. For now. Well, at least Sylvain had one thing to <em> maybe </em>look forward to in the coming days. Some little uncertainty that might surprise him, some little thing to distract him for all the work awaiting him back in Fhirdiad.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It was nearly sundown when Sylvain and his company exited the forest they had been traveling through for the better half of the day. Despite spring already blooming in the former Alliance, the forest had been cooler compared to the open road the last few days. Still, Leicester territory did not compare to the cold he was used to in Faerghus, so even the forest had been pleasantly warm to him. The whole time he had let the sensations of nature fill his being. How the shadows had danced over the ground, with wind rustling through the leaves, the birds sing and fly by, the atmosphere had been able to take his mind off the upcoming affairs. Now that the sun had sunken almost completely and the world was dipped in twilight, he saw the town ahead and was ripped out of his nature induced reverie, back to his confined world of official duty, agreements, and commitment. He sighed.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Are you tired from traveling, my lord?” Jean, one of his squires, asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Something like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re nearly to Pegasus Crossing anyway, maybe half an hour more. I’ve arranged for lodging ahead of time, so that is taken care of as well. The innkeeper had told me that there might be some traveling entertainers as well, on their way to the festivities in Derdriu. Maybe we are on time and can catch one of their performances? Would you want to watch them, my lord?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm.” Sylvain gave a noncommittal shrug, he had only half listened to Jean. The young squire was overly enthusiastic on his first stately trip duty and had volunteered to organize their affairs. Sylvain had been more than grateful to entrust these chores to someone else.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently sensing that his lord was not in a talkative mood, Jean let his horse fall back and chatted with others in the company. Sylvain rode on in silence.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>They reached the outskirts of the town just as the last bits of sunlight vanished beneath tall trees. The town was less just a town and more a small city. It lay in an advantageous position on the border between former Alliance and Faerghus, near Daphnel pass and had prospered under the new flourishing trade between nations. It was a common stop for traveling folk and traders, and had grown in population and spread with the incoming business. Still its origin as a small farmerstown and traveling stop was undeniable; It had a certain rustic charm to it. Wooden buildings mingled with ones in brick, new and old, often simply added to, to accommodate new rooms for guests or family alike. Different styles of buildings could be seen as well, the exterior of the house hinting at the nationality of the occupant within.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing this, Sylvain was again glad he had forgone the pompous traveling entourage that used to be tradition and instead had gone with only a few trusted knights and scribes. A full blown procession would have drawn too many eyes for his liking. Now they could be just a traveling merchant or minor noble plus guards, all of which was common enough to not draw attention. They rode on farther into the town.</p><p> </p><p>The inn Jean had selected was close to what Sylvain assumed to be the center of the city. It must have been one of the older buildings too, and the town's new prosperity had let this inn expand as well. The top floor stones had a different, lighter color. They dismounted and a few stablehands, who apparently had been awaiting them, took care of their horses. Sylvain petted his mare's nose before she was led away, then dusted off some of the traveling grime that clung to his clothes before they entered the building.</p><p> </p><p>It looked nice. It was rustic, all old dark wood, but it was tidy and well lit. The smell of a hearty stew boiling in the kitchen filled his nose.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah Margrave Gautier, a pleasure and honor to be housing you on your travels to the festival in Derdriu!” a plump man, who was probably at about his age, greeted him.<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>He introduced himself as the owner and brought them up to their rooms. Sylvain was given one on the new top floor, it smelled pleasant like freshly washed linens and of the wildflowers in a small vase on a side table. He looked forward to finally resting after days on the road, giving his tired and wearing bones some time on the plush down feathers.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Dinner will be ready shortly, my lord. We didn’t know of your tastes but I hope the meal my wife is preparing will be to your liking. I know you must be tired from your travels, but if I may be so bold to suggest, there are traveling performers in town right now. I know you are just on your way to the grad festival in the Capital but my wife and I watched their performance yesterday and it was quite the show! You see I am a war veteran just like yourself so the performance was especially exciting.” </p><p> </p><p>Beaming with overexcitement to host <em> the Margrave </em>, the man was obviously forcing himself to speak formally.</p><p> </p><p>“Jean told me of these performers already, but I think I’ll be retiring early for the night. And I am sure whatever your wife prepares will be more than fine.” He tried to ease the nervous man.</p><p> </p><p>“We are still allowed to go though, right?” Jean asked, looking to Sylvain for permission.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh I am sure you will quite enjoy the show my young knight. You see when I was your age and served in the war…” The innkeeper had thrown an arm around Jean’s shoulders and was leading the boy back downstairs, about ready to unload his life’s story on the young man.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Sylvain had washed up a little with the preheated water provided in his room when one of his scribes informed him that dinner was ready.</p><p> </p><p>The meal was typical Alliance fare but quite tasty. The innkeeper’s wife must have stuck to what she knew best and it showed. The earthy flavours of root vegetables, cooked with herbs and meat for hours in a pot were nothing fancy but it was well made and everyone ate with delight. Sylvain made a mental note to thank Jean for his clearly careful and informed planning. After they had finished eating, and the plates had been cleaned away, the innkeeper brought a round of drinks.</p><p> </p><p>“... and then I had this horse I couldn’t ride, never been trained to, ya see, but that wasn’t a problem, I just gave it to my neigh-bor.” Imbued with liquid courage, the innkeeper was sitting with them now and had apparently also loosed up quite a bit as he was going on some inane story. Trying to tune him out Sylvain tried to find something else to occupy his attention and found himself listening in on two young women talking over their dinner at the next table.</p><p> </p><p>“... I am so glad we got to see them yesterday. Everyone is talking about going now, wanting to see the swordsman in action.”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Man, I wish I got to see him in action.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my goddess, Ann.” Cutlery clinking together and a chair scraping over the floor, it sounded like the first woman was trying to shush her friend, while barely keeping her own bashfulness but also amusement under control.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t say it like you wouldn’t mind some yourself, Carris. Polishing up your sword technique, eyy?” Sylvain had turned slightly to look at them from the corner of his eyes. The second woman was glancing at her table companion over a raised mug and eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“I, .., I mean, yeah he looked very skillful and all. I am sure he could give me some pointers.”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh I am sure he could give you something pointy, alright.”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>The first woman looked like she was about to spit out what she’d been drinking, from both repressed laughter and embarrassment. Barely keeping it together the other woman shook openly with delight.</p><p> </p><p>Deciding to save the poor girl from choking he turned around fully to get their attention.</p><p> </p><p>“I couldn’t help overhearing your fascinating discussion.”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>The first woman was turning beet red and looked about ready to meld into the floor, while her companion eyed him wearily.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She sounded much less amused when she addressed him, crossing her arms.</p><p> </p><p>Shit. Yeah now that it was out Sylvain saw how that must come off to them. Getting a better look at them now, he saw he was surely twice their age and just bumped into their thinly veiled suggestive conversation uninvited. They were pretty for sure, but he wasn’t in the mood for anything like that, not tonight anyway, hardly ever anymore really, but a lifetime of these antics was hard to get rid of. But he was good at smoothing things over. He got out his political ‘nice and helpful’ smile and addressed the beet.</p><p> </p><p>“If you earnestly want some training advice on swordforms or another weapon or combat art, ask some of my men. I am sure they’d be more than happy to help you along. Do it before they get too drunk or leave to go out though.” He laughed his practiced chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! Ah, fencing is, is just a hobby to me.” The first woman had somewhat recovered and was tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. “But thank you! If they want to go out I wouldn’t want to keep them from it though. They should be quick about it too, everyone’s itching to see him.”</p><p> </p><p>“This swordsman you’ve been talking about?”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Yes! He’s with the traveling entertainers in town right now, and <em> oh goddess </em>, after yesterday everyone’s been talking about them!” The first woman almost bouncing on her chair and looked to be about to go on an enthusiastic rant when the second woman interjected her. </p><p> </p><p>"So they are like a mixed circus or something. And one of the main attractions is this sword-guy who does some kind of acrobatics and stuff. We get some traveling performers here now and then but these have been quite good and the talk of the town today. So anyway, it's going to be super crowded with so many people on their way to the capital. If you want to see them you should go soon."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, you've seen them already?" Jean asked. Sylvain's companions must have noticed him talking to the women, some of them had turned around as well.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes. It was amazing!" the first woman beamed. </p><p> </p><p>"Do you know where they will perform?" </p><p> </p><p>"I'd be easier to just show you. I can take you there, if you'd like." she answered Jean, batting her lashes. </p><p> </p><p>"Really?" Jean was quite oblivious. </p><p> </p><p>"Sure!" </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Twenty minutes later Sylvain was standing on the edge of a huge crowd in what he had learned was called 'the old square', even though it was technically more of a circle. After hearing the women and then the innkeeper couple praise the performance, <em> yet again </em>, and his knights itching to go, Sylvain had allowed himself to be swept up in their excitement and had come along. It wasn't like his sleep was the best anyway, might as well go with them and at least try to enjoy the night. On their way here the first girl, Carris, had chatted up his men about sword techniques among other things and seemed to be getting along well with them. </p><p> </p><p>After so much delay, with eating and talking, they were a bit late to the show, it had already started. As expected, it was crowded so they had split up, leaving everyone to find their own spot, trying to catch a glimpse of the stage.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain had decided his best view was on the edge, as far from the crowd as possible, leaning against a closed up market stall. It would have been easy for him to look over the crowd, had he remembered to bring his spectacles, but oh well, blurry the show would be. He drank in the atmosphere of the town instead.</p><p> </p><p>As far as he could tell, and he had seen many different kinds of productions over the years, these performers were good. Not amazing or special, just very solid. Still he supposed for towns folk or others less well versed in stage plays, they put on quite the show. </p><p> </p><p>He was contemplating to leave feeling his attention slip, when a low murmur went through the crowd. The last act had just left, when someone extinguished most of the torches lining the stage with a spell.</p><p> </p><p>The crowd had grown almost silent in anticipation when a man wearing a mask and carrying a sword on his hip slowly entered the stage. Despite the night night air, he was sparsely clad and his long dark hair loose. His easy poise and confident stride made him seem dangerous but also alluring. </p><p> </p><p>Sylvain looked up. The man drew his sword. The crowd took in a breath and he began. </p><p> </p><p>First, he slowly fell in and out of stances in one continuous motion. It looked almost like some kind of warmup and also somehow eerily familiar, maybe like a cat on the prowl or a snake ready to strike. Sylvain squinted. </p><p> </p><p>Picking up the mood of the crowd the man increased his tempo. He began moving around the stage more, gestures grander, moves faster, steps wider, and Sylvain petted his coat pocket again, looking for glasses that weren’t there. </p><p> </p><p>The man was getting more and more active, doing some acrobatic tricks in between what looked like a mock battle against an invisible opponent, when Sylvain found himself in the crowd, carefully pushing forward, nudging people aside to get closer.</p><p> </p><p>The audience was rapturous, exclaiming their excitement and appreciation with loud <em> ooohs </em> and <em> ahhhs </em>when the man had done an especially flashy trick. His long dark hair whipped around his head, his mask and sword gleaming in the torchlight, orange specks painting burning embers on his features. He was spinning and flipping around the stage, in moves clearly meant for display and not actual combat, still underlying it all were many familiar techniques. Sylvain was transfixed. He had pushed quite far into the mass of people but there were too many to advance further so he strained his eyes to see. </p><p> </p><p>In a bright flash of fire the man ignited some of the extinguished torches, similarly the crowd exploded into cheers and applause but-</p><p> </p><p>"That's not Felix." Sylvain exhaled. Felix had never learned how to handle flame. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The drum of his own heart in his ears drowned out the hammering applause the people gave the unknown man. Frantically shoving people out of his way, to just get away, to get space to breath, Sylvain was stumbling back out of the crowd, suddenly wide awake. Clammy hands found a cold stone wall, but it did little to soothe the burning, needle-like prickling in his fingers, in his throat, down his back. Sucking in short, erratic breaths through clenched teeth, he forced his eyes open. He was in Pegasus Crossing, former Alliance, on his way to some stupid, duty bound event celebrating a nice world he helped create but didn’t have a place in.</p><p> </p><p>His thoughts were racing, giving him pictures and memories he hadn’t asked for, didn’t want. It had been quite some time since his mind had oh so graciously subterfuged his waking thoughts and supplemented his most tightly kept desires like this. He really couldn't do anything right, <em> still </em> clinging on to some decades old fantasy. Longing for something, <em> someone </em>, he never really had, never could have had and never would have. He was so pathetic, as if through some miracle granted by the goddess, Felix would just be standing there, in some old town in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in the Alliance. So fucking pathetic. This was why he'd never been able to move on, because he was an incapable stupid fool. </p><p> </p><p>Still leaning against the wall, he held a hand to his forehead, checking if he had a fever, but he didn't, his mind had just been damned to Ailell long ago, just as his body would be when the time came. He tried to keep himself from heaving; Tried to stuff it back down leaving it to rot inside him with the rest of it. But it spilled out like his stupid mind had spilled all these visions of a long gone past, dredged up unbidden, let loose like his self control.</p><p> </p><p>He righted himself, trying to steady his wavering mind through an upright body and walked back to the inn. His head hit the feathery pillow, airy and white, but his dreams; they were overtaken by stifling darkness.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It took them two more days to arrive in Derdriu, the rest of the ride uneventful. They entered the Aquatic Capital early on the second day and soon found their way to the Council hall. It was a grand building, made even grander during recent years when more and more initiations into The Great Alliance had given birth to the need for more room. The air in Derdriu was fresh but warm, the ocean wind carried a salty flavour and the high sun reflected from the canals veining the city in bright flashes of light. In preparation for the upcoming festival the city was buzzing with activity. People from all over, merchants and peddlers offering their various wares to travelers passing by, the streets full of workers preparing for the festivities and denizens watching them.</p><p> </p><p>They slowly made their way through the crowd, Sylvain was to informally meet Claude and Hilda once he arrived and got settled in the housing area of the hall. Afternoon came and he found himself in a shadowed parlour taking tea with the King and his wife.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahh, I’m glad you made it. And just in time too.” Claude greeted him. He was reclining leisurely on a plush couch, Hilda leaning on his side. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah most everyone’s here already! What took you so long Sylvain?” She took a sip of tea and nibbled on a biskit.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, you know how it is.” Sylvain deflected and took a seat opposite them on a large-backed chair.</p><p> </p><p>“Marianne and Lorenz will be joining us shortly. Tea?” Claude asked and made to get up to pour some.</p><p> </p><p>“Stay Claude, I can pour my own, but thanks!” </p><p> </p><p>“Making me look bad as a host, just to cover up your evident loss in our beard contest. Truly a devious plan.” Claude smirked at him while Sylvain prepared himself a cup. Indeed Claude's beard was as impressive as ever, maybe more. Almyrans tended to wear outgrown beards and with the King of Unification having one, more and more people had been taken to them.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I just don’t want to disturb the fair lady on your side. It would be a tragedy if such a delicate flower got unduly rustled.” He took a sip of bergamot, clear evidence that Claude was anything but a stellar host.</p><p> </p><p>“You know I can hear you both, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah Hilda, you know you relish it. I certainly do.”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Maybeee, but do you have to make it so obvious?” she laughed and tried to playfully shove him off as Claude embraced her around the middle and gave her a kiss on her cheek. They looked so comfortable, cozy and happy with each other. Sylvain had been envious once, but nowadays he mostly just tuned it out, or at least tried to.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahh please excuse our late arrival.” A soft voice disrupted his reverie, as Marianne and Lorenz entered carrying a small basket of what looked like more baked goods.</p><p> </p><p>She placed the pastries on the table and gave Hilda a shy kiss then sat down beside her and took her hand. Lorenz chose a chair on Claude’s right since there was no space on the couch left. Claude shot him a look and Lozenz looked somewhat annoyed but mumbled something that sounded suspiciously close to <em> later </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Still seeing them all so comfortable, Sylvain found it increasingly hard to keep his emotions in check. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to be jealous of them, just because they were capable adults and had managed to sort out their personal feelings with each other. Yet some part of him felt a pang of this ugly feeling creeping down his spine and settle in his gutt. He tried to wash it down with some tea.</p><p> </p><p>Taken back to other thoughts the five of them passed the afternoon in pleasant conversation, for once simply indulging in small talk of every kind over tea and treats and not meeting on official duty. As the day advanced and the sky began to darken, the day giving way to night, the topic did circle around to address why they had found themselves here.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah I can't wait for the ball tomorrow. Marianne helped me pick out the cutest dress and I simply must show it off" Hilda sighed with excitement.</p><p> </p><p>“I merely tagged along, it was more you helping me choose what to wear.” Marianne answered softly. Sometime ago Hilda had transferred herself from Claude’s shoulder to Marianne’s lap, resting her head on the other woman’s thighs. Marianne was idly playing with Hilda’s pink hair, while Claude had to content himself with her feet.</p><p> </p><p>“I am sure both of you will look equally resplendent.” Lorenz offered.</p><p> </p><p>“And meee?” Claude affectedly batted his lashes at Lorenz.</p><p> </p><p>“Uhg, you too Claude.” Lozenz looked away and Claude seized the opportunity to slap his thigh across the armrest of the couch. Startled Lorenz barely managed to suppress a yelp.</p><p> </p><p>Idly picking at the tassels of her tunica, and also gently kicking Claude, Hilda reprimanded them. “Ew, keep the foreplay down you two, you’re making poor Sylvain uncomfortable.”</p><p> </p><p>He laughed. “Hah, Hilda it’s quite alright, nothing I haven’t seen or done before. I wanted to leave soon anyway. It’s getting late and I want to catch a good night's rest after all this traveling. I just don’t take it as well as I used to.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uhg tell me about it, going from Almyra to Derdriu and back all the time. Girl can’t catch a break!”</p><p> </p><p>“Still, it beats all the marches.” Marianne said solemnly.</p><p> </p><p>That gave them all a pause, the merry atmosphere evaporated.</p><p> </p><p>“Well let’s continue working towards keeping it all march and war free. It’s what we gathered here for anyway.” Claude said gently and gave Marianne a sincere smile.</p><p> </p><p>“You are right,” she smiled back, “and I am sorry for bringing the mood down, everyone.”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing to apologize for.” Hilda patted her leg.</p><p> </p><p>Taking it as his cue to leave Sylvain got up “Well, I’ll see you all at the festivities then. Good night.”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Good night to you too, Sylvain.” Lorenz went to see him off, shutting the door to the parlour after him. </p><p> </p><p>But Sylvain couldn’t shut out the image of the four of them so comfortably together out of his mind, especially not when all that awaited him was a lonely room and a cold and empty bed. Fitting though for his cold and empty existence. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The day preceding the opening night went by in a breeze. Sylvain slept in late, now that he had nowhere to go and no one to be. He took a long soaking bath and got dressed in casual clothes to just wander around the city in the afternoon. He had dismissed his companions for them to do as they pleased until the singing on the morning of the third day. After he had found a small cafe in a shadowed side street right by the ocean he ordered a late lunch, while watching the people bustle by and get ready for the festival. Some stalls and events had opened today already but Sylvain was content to simply do nothing until he had to drag himself to the ball at night.</p><p> </p><p>The more he sat idly and the later it got, the more he found his thoughts invaded by said ball and reluctantly he got up, paid to tread back to his rooms to get changed and be <em> presentable </em>. Uhg how much he didn’t want to go. He could already see the whole evening play out before him and he was just so done with it already. But he knew it was important for him to be there, after what Marianne and Claude had said the day before. And he had also promised them he’d be there. He wasn’t one to let his friends hang, usually. He tried. He really did but, the few times he should have tried harder, he had messed it up. So badly. So goddess forsaken badly. He managed to stop himself just as he was about to pound his first on the side table. Instead he splashed some cold water in his face to regain his composure, put on his fancy coat and made his way over to the hall.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t very full yet, but he liked to get there early. In his younger days it had been to find the best vantage point to check out new people entering, to see who was up for something, to best position him so they could get caught in his web. But nowadays it was to find the best spot to avoid people, some place where he could stand out of reach, where people would have to approach him specifically and could’t just accidentally run into him. </p><p> </p><p>He saw Ingrid briefly, looking striking and at home in her guard captain garb. She came over and they exchanged a few words. They had kept writing to each other regularly after she had relinquished Galatea, despite, well, <em> everything </em>. But meeting with her in person was always hard, as they both so dearly felt the empty spaces left between them. So he was soon left alone with his thoughts again, idly sipping on his, what third, fourth? drink, watching people from a distance. More and more voices filled the hall and he saw many familiar faces, a lot of them unwelcome. He noticed a few of his old flames, with husbands or wives on their arm, giving him a quick glance and then pointedly looking away. It rolled off him like the fizzing drinks down his throat, one after the other, and the evening hadn’t even begun properly yet. He started to grow impatient when finally Claude graced the stage. </p><p> </p><p>People were easily drawn to the striking figure he cut on the gallery, looking over the crowd and them looking expectantly back to him. Sylvain could see how he basked in their attention. He wore a dark green suit with gold embroidery, exposing some of his chest and sporting the telltale almyran tassels and patterning on a colorful swath of fabric thrown over his shoulders and bound around his hip. The light reflected off the gold he was wearing, glittering with every move under the chandeliers, and Sylvain mused that Lorenz must surely be pleased with the look.</p><p> </p><p>Claude began to speak and at first greeted them in his cheerful and slightly boyish way. He spoke some of the programm for the upcoming days, how it had been a conjoined effort to execute and how he was hoping that everyone enjoyed themselves. Sylvian put his empty glass down. Claude was jovial and it carried over to the people in the crowd. Mostly.</p><p> </p><p>But once he came to the rejuvenation of the treaty his voice grew serious. He talked of the war, their decisive victories but also their crushing failures.</p><p> </p><p>"I want us all to take a moment and remember those we have lost" Claude's voice carried over the crowd. It was strong and composed, he had grown to become a true leader. Sylvain first thought of Bernadetta at Gronder, then of Ashe in the fiery pits of Aillel; He hadn't been there, but he had heard of the literal hell this battle had been. He thought of the Aegir heir in another account, and of the countless others he had known and lost under his command who no one else here would remember but him. </p><p> </p><p>"But also those we couldn't save." Claude continued on, the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room, trying to fill the void, the empty spaces left behind. Sylvain first thought of Lysithea who had lived through the war and then never seen the peaceful land Fódlan would become. He thought of Edelgard and Hubert, who he hadn't known, but known of their conviction which they had been prepared to die for.</p><p> </p><p>He thought of Dimitri. </p><p> </p><p>A few years after the war Claude and Byleth had started to uncover the secret plots which had driven Edelgard to what she did, and uncovered that the same people had been the ones responsible for Rhea’s anguish as well. He had often tried to laugh in the face of this painful irony that seemed to plague the world, that they both had had the same enemy, but in the end could not overcome their differences. That everything boiled down to misunderstandings in the end. His forced mirth had truly ended when Byleth had also found that “those who slither in the dark”, as they were known as now, had been the ones responsible for Duscur, too. </p><p> </p><p>Learning of Dimitri's misdirection, that every ghost that plagued him had whispered the wrong name and that he'd been consumed by a false rage. </p><p> </p><p>Hearing that he and Edelgard had, in a sense, shared the same suffering had made this war all the more bitter. And, in the end, everything all the more tragic. Everything that went wrong. Everything that fell apart. Everything he had lost and it was all for naught. Dimitri, so consumed by his ghosts, for him to be obsessed with the wrong target. All of them torn apart by this torrent of violence, and hatred and misunderstandings, drowning in feelings kept both too tight and let too loose. This storm over Fódlan, he a survivor, but his ship broken and  stranded on foreign shores. Still, swim on he must and he had.</p><p> </p><p>During some hazy days and after he'd learnt that the girl with the dagger had been Eldelgard, Sylvain had also often wondered if Dimitri and her could have been friends again. At the Academy. If they had only talked - </p><p> </p><p>Claude's voice took him out of his musing. </p><p> </p><p>"I want you all to remember them so you'll never forget it was also their sacrifice that made Fódlan's new dawn come true. And that in another time <em> we </em> could have been the ones in their place. I <em> never </em> want history to be forgotten again. I want us all to move on <em> together </em>. People of Fódlan, people of Almyra, people of Birgid, Dagda and Duscur and the lands beyond. Together! " he toasted to that, prompting everyone to join in. It was a good speech, Claude had done well and Sylvain thought he'd been right to put his faith in him. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The evening continued on.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Encouraged by the warm, fuzzy feeling slipping into his mind and hands he decided that just standing around was no way to live. He grabbed another drink from one of the servants handing them out, the cool weight in his hands familiar and grounding. The hall was positively packed. He heard the endearing accent of Brigid aristocrats one step, then smelled Almyra’s heavy spices on another person the next. Bright colors, almost jarring, from Morfis, drab but practical from Dagda. Delighted laughter from one group, heated debate from another. He stepped lighter and soon found some pleasant conversation with old acquaintances he didn't see often or didn't write to. </p><p> </p><p>But as things, as usual, didn’t last. Leeches weaseling into his chats, souring them, wanting favor after favor. He was sick of it. Just so sick and tired of it all. He had put so much of his energy, time and conviction into Sreng and the Crest reform, but where had it left him? Everyone wondering what he was up to in his personal affairs, gossiping about the infamous ‘son of Gautier’, philanderer, playboy, behind his back. It was true he hadn’t done much over the years to refute the slander, both in action and words, still, it stung that this was what petty people regularly talked about, not the accomplishments he had made. </p><p> </p><p>But how could he <em> not </em> have become so reckless and inattentive in his personal affairs with how everything went down. How could he even <em> deserve </em>anything better than what he got. He almost felt the itch to try on his old ways again, just to show them, just to stick it up to them, knowing full well it would just spell disaster. The warm pleasantness that had made him leave his wall had turned, churning around in his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>The gossip had changed over the years too, as had he. Raunchy and wild at first, it had mellowd into a more pittingy display of <em> oh the Margrave is still unwed?, pff now wonder with that kind of past, who’d want to wed him after all of his escapades, finally the ladies get a rest from this fiend </em>. Ironic also how his efforts in devaluing crests had made him less of a trophy in that regard but being one of most influential people in Fódlan had still had an effect on people. The wrong kind of people. Still, he had laboured on and continued with this spiel until he was just too burned out to care anymore. When people had finally seen this mask slip and unearthed all the buried hate and resentment underneath, advances had slowed down considerably. But that was right by him, that was right by him. It wasn’t like money couldn’t buy what his charm and status previously had. He downed his drink.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Sylvain was in another wretched conversation with someone he didn’t even remember the name of, when a large man came to his rescue.</p><p> </p><p>“I must talk with the Margrave for a minute, if you’ll excuse us.” Deude said to whoever.</p><p> </p><p>“Sylvain, you look like you need saving.” The Duscur man whispered into Sylvian’s ear and took him by the arm.<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Uhg tell me about it, .. thanks, Dedue.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t mention it.”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Dedeu led them to the high windows of the hall and they emerged into the mild spring air onto a balcony overlooking the inner city of Derdriu. The canals reflected the night’s lights and in the distance one could see the ocean. Just starting spring, it was already so warm here even at night, then again Sylvain came from the northern depths of Faerghus where winter still reigned. It was nice, pleasant even. A small breeze blew through the nearby trees and carried the scent of the ocean.<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>He took a deep breath. “Ahh, thanks.” The air smelled salty but fresh, pent up tension from the party rolling off his shoulders. He leaned his back against the balcony railing and Dedue joined beside him.</p><p> </p><p>They idly chatted about some inconsequential affairs but soon found themselves reminiscing about the past. The days in Fhirdiad, at the Academy, during the war.</p><p><br/>
“You know Claude’s speech got me thinking. Or maybe I am just senile old fool who can’t live in the present but,” Sylvain pushed his hair up and out of his face, only to let it fall back down. It limply fell against his forehead. “Do you ever think about how things could have been different? What would happen if he was still here? If we could have saved Dimitri had we known more, if we had understood him better? I feel like if only we had tried harder then maybe..” Sylvain trailed off. He looked at the man beside him and saw that Dedue was gathering the strength to reply. He took a moment to breathe in deep, then spoke.</p><p> </p><p>"You see," Dedue sighed "I don't think anyone ever truly understood Dimitri in the end. I tried and, maybe I got close, but I could only ever share in his suffering from the outside, inside he was alone with his ghosts. You know, over the years I sometimes found myself thinking that maybe it was better this way, and other days I can’t believe, that these thoughts even cross my mind. In the end I am sure it's a bit of both. It could have been different, better maybe, maybe worse, but it wasn't and it isn't and I am here <em> now </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>“Anyway while no one probably really understood Dimitri, I am very glad that Claude at least understood some of his ambitions. I am still honored that he put faith in a man like me to navigate the reconciliation with Duscur. In the end I think he knew it would help mend my heart too, both for my people and His Highness’s sake. ...A last wish you could say.“ The small smile gracing Dedue’s lips in stark contrast to the crease of his brows.</p><p> </p><p>Sylvain looked at the tall man, backlit from the high windows of the dancing hall. Dedue looked out over the city and seemed strangely at peace.</p><p> </p><p>“So, yes, I sometimes do think about what would be if he was still here, or here again. But he isn't and I am not unhappy with what we made out of Fódlan in the end. I think,... I think he would like how it is now.” He sighed again, a deep and heavy sound, like wind rushing out of a cave, leaving it empty but finally free of the pent up pressure.</p><p> </p><p>Silence stretched between them. A companionable silence maybe, but a silence nonetheless. It was laden with history and a lost, unspoken future. The wind picked up, but it was not enough to blow away the gravity of the next statement.</p><p> </p><p>“You loved him, didn't you.”</p><p> </p><p>“In my own way, yes, I think I did, but he didn't love himself and yet love is what drove him to become what he was. Love for the ones he lost. And yet here I am indulging in the same mistake.” Dedue shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>A Pause followed by a statement. </p><p> </p><p>“You loved Felix.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don't think I even <em> can </em>love. Maybe I could once but not anymore. Haven't for years. Maybe in forever, really. Maybe Felix was the last. ...Not like I deserved him anyway.” Sylvain rambled on, his words not making much sense even to his own ears.</p><p> </p><p>There they were, two broken men standing on a balcony, looking out over the canals of Derdriu. Time, at present, meaningless, but all that they had left in the world.</p><p> </p><p>“We better head back in. Dorothea’s performance is about to start, I think.” Dedue soft tone shattered the silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah you are right, wouldn’t want to miss it. One of the few good things about this party here.”</p><p> </p><p>They made their way over to the hall, but before they entered Dedue spoke up one last time, looking him in the eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“And Sylvain, it's good to let these things out every now and then. Better speaking what you already think to someone who might understand, than letting it fester in your mind forever.”<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Dedue.” And Sylvain smiled his first genuine smile this evening as they headed back inside.</p><p><br/>
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</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>They entered just as the lights were dimmed and shushed whispers ushered everyone to silence. Dorothea appeared on stage. Ethereal and beautiful still, but nothing could compare to her voice. </p><p> </p><p>It had always been lovely. Ever since the first time Sylvain had heard her perform during a choir festival back at the Academy he had been a little bit in love. Her inflection carried so much emotion, her bearing on stage rivaling anyone he'd ever seen.</p><p> </p><p>He had tried, he'd asked her out during their Academy days, kindred spirits as they were. And again after she'd been spared during the war and joined their ranks. She had indulged him, of course knowing the game they had both played by heart.</p><p> </p><p>He'd come to think fondly of her, truly, really, had visited the Opera and watched her perform countless times. He had asked her to marry him and she'd thought it had been a bluff between friends. He asked again, in various ways and after one evening of drunken indulgence after a play, everything had spilled out. They hadn't married, he had never asked again. </p><p> </p><p>She was standing there now on the dias, lovelier than ever, and once she sang, a song he had never heard before, he now finally, truly, <em> really </em>understood what she had told him that night. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>A new dawn's sun,</p><p>The light upon my face.</p><p>In its warmth I stand</p><p>A cold and dark place. </p><p> </p><p>For this world is one without - </p><p>I had been told it must - </p><p>I knew it to be true, - still in you</p><p>I had placed my faith, my trust. </p><p> </p><p>Remembered now,</p><p>not in anger and disdain. </p><p>Yet no one truly knew, </p><p>Your ambitions, your pain. </p><p> </p><p>No one but me, </p><p>by you till the aftermath. </p><p>And far beyond for I</p><p>can never forget your warmth. </p><p> </p><p>A fire, that burnt so brightly</p><p>Me, moth to a flame</p><p>That fire, also inside me</p><p>For you, but never the same. </p><p> </p><p>Your eyes, towards a morning</p><p>That never came to be. </p><p>Would you stand here now</p><p>In the light with me? </p><p>Would you stand here now</p><p>In the light with me?</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He was so enchanted by her voice, transformed by age from soft silk into the deepest and richest velvet, which no one could hope don now, he only found his cheeks wet after the last note had left the air. </p><p> </p><p>Sorceress that she was, this had been Dorothea's most potent spell.</p><p> </p><p>It was fitting, this song after Claude's speech earlier and after everything he and Byleth had shown the world. Edelgard was taught to kids now not as a villain, but as a victim, an example why the world they grew up in now was so radically different from that of their parents. A cautionary tale, but one of strength nonetheless. </p><p> </p><p>Sylvain was glad that he had helped shape a world where she was no longer misunderstood, even if she had been misguided, and where Dorothea could sing this song and be heralded a hero. </p><p> </p><p>Someone started clapping after what felt like an age of silence. And soon everyone was startled out of their stupor and joined in. The applause was sweeping through the crowd and yet it still felt undeserving for the performance given. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Sylvain excused himself. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He was wandering aimlessly around, Dorothea's words stuck in his mind. Replaying that night in Enbarr after the play, replaying many other nights and many other days, when he suddenly became aware of the sand beneath his boots. </p><p> </p><p>He stood on the training grounds.</p><p> </p><p>They were not in disuse per se, but they weren't the fully stacked place he thought he should remember, drilled into him in his childhood days. It made him smile. </p><p> </p><p>Until he started crying. </p><p> </p><p>The exhausting talk with Dedue, the sword acrobat on his way here, Claude's speech and finally Dorothea's song all mingling together in the silent solitude of the grounds, until all was drowned out but one memory and one emotion. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Felix and regret. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>They often went hand in hand. Regret about letting him go, regret about not staying by him, regret about their last fight, regret about their misspent youth, regret about the war, regret about their past but most of all regret about their lost future. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Sylvain Jose Gautier, 49 years old, Margrave over Gautier and Blaiddyd territory, Duke over Fraldarius, famous war general but also infamous philanderer, negotiator of peace with Sreng, voice of the Crest reform, treasured friend and - </p><p>terrible failure, sitting in the training grounds of Derdriu, crying like a child, </p><p> </p><p>alone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>D':</p><p>So uh thanks for sticking with this and reading to the end!</p><p>This AU has been plaguing me for quite some time now, as I love the VW ending, but am unapologetic Sylvix trash. (also sorry to Dimitri, Edelgard and everyone else I killed off, I still love you). I've alsways found Felix ending with Leonie very intriguing, since I feel it's the one outside of AM where he's the least fucked up.</p><p>I should note that it’s my first time ever writing something like this (and also that English isn’t my native language), so please if you find anything that sounds weird or off or anything don’t hesitate to point it out :) Criticism very much welcome! Also I think I have a penchant for overly flowery language (&lt;- like this!) let me know if this was alright to read or not.</p><p>I hope you’ve enjoyed Sylvain’s self-loathing so far and are ready for more, because BOI do I have some in store for you.</p><p>For real though, it will get better over time, since the endgame goal of this is definitely Sylvix learning to love and ending up together again. But first sweet sweet angst. I also have a chunks of chapters two and three written already and mostly the whole storyline planned out, but since this is my first time undertaking such a project I have no clue how often I’ll update or how long it will be in the end, but I very conservatively estimated it to 6 chapters.</p><p>Oh I also draw/paint FE stuff, but I am terrible at <a href="https://twitter.com/tasigat">twitter</a>, still feel free to DM me!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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